Switching Brides: I Never Said You Were the One

When my fiancee, Gwen Blanchard, insists on giving birth to a child belonging to her ex-boyfriend of many years, Keith Davila, everyone can't wait to see me object to her decision.

But now, Gwen's child is officially one month old, and yet I've never kicked up a ruckus about the whole incident. Instead, I focus on preparing my wedding.

Thinking that I've finally accepted my position as her caretaker, Gwen decides to show me sympathy, though she does so in a smug manner.

"Since you've already learned your place, I shall attend the wedding and let you become my baby's father in name. I'm giving you a chance to take care of the baby and me."

But Gwen seems to be overthinking it. I've only mentioned that I'm going to hold a wedding, but I've never said anything about wanting to marry her at all.

When I got home, ready to have it out with Gwen, I found the house decked out for Quintin's baby shower.

In the living room, all the photos of Gwen and me from the past ten years, along with our pre-wedding pictures, had been torn down. In their place were family portraits of Gwen, Keith, and Quintin—chronicling from pregnancy, labor, and delivery, right through to Quintin turning one month old.

In the bottom right corner of every photo, Gwen had carefully handwritten the date with a pen and for eleven months, not a single day had been missed. The photos were plastered all over the house, so dense they completely covered the walls.

That was when it all clicked. During the year I was abroad for further studies, I'd deliberately worked around the time difference to call her when she should have been free. But she always turned down my video calls, claiming she was busy.

I had naively thought her workload was piling up, and I even felt guilty for putting her through so much. It never crossed my mind that she was actually busy becoming someone else's wife.

Inside the house, everyone was fussing over Quintin.

"Quintin is so delicate and handsome. His eyes look exactly like Keith's—he's going to be a heartthrob when he grows up!"

"Yeah, lucky for Quintin, his dad is someone like Keith—you know, good stock. Not like those short-lived folks in Ernest's family. Ernest spends all day holed up in Gwen's company lab, yet I don't see him bringing home any real money."

Everyone there was from Gwen's side of the family, so it went without saying that no one was going to speak up for me. After all, Gwen was now a successful, well-known CEO, and her relatives were all busy sucking up to her. Even though they all knew I existed, they treated me as nothing more than a punchline to laugh about over dinner.

I was just about to step inside when Keith spotted me. Cradling Quintin in his arms, he smiled with undisguised smugness. "Ernest, you're back! Why didn't you say anything? Come in